


The One With A Self-Sacrificing Idiot

by shepardly



Series: Murphy's Law [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepardly/pseuds/shepardly
Summary: A mission to a frozen Alaskan base takes a turn for the worse, causing Hanzo to make a self-sacrificing move that McCree refuses to accept.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this one gets rough about half way through which is why I'm posting it as a standalone, but it's my usual jam: NO major character death! No bittersweet endings here, just happy because I'm a sap like that.

Jesse awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright before his brain had completely registered the fact that he was awake. 

 

“Whoa!” He heard a couple surprised shouts before hands were pressing on his shoulders, trying to make him lay back down. Urgency filled him, bordering on panic, making him attempt to shake them off but sharp pain stole his breath as it shot through his torso and head, forcing him down with a grunt.

 

“Relax Eastwood, before you hurt yourself more.” Lúcio admonished, leaning over him and looking at something on his chest with a tight expression on his face. Jesse gasped and couldn't stifle the groan when cold air touched what felt like a rather nasty wound on his ribs. His head was pounding, feeling like it would fall right off if he attempted to move again. 

 

As painful as it was, Jesse had other things on his mind. He blinked and squinted in the bright light, the pain in his head near blinding, and saw that they were on the cargo transport plane that they had arrived in Alaska on. Lúcio was still working on him, Mei sat nearby sporting a black eye and makeshift sling for her arm, D.Va was fussing over her slightly smoking MEKA, and Soldier:76 was watching from the other side of the plane, arms folded and expression unreadable under his mask.

 

“Hanzo,” Jesse’s voice was rough, his throat painfully dry. “Where is he?”

 

Lúcio and Mei exchanged uncertain glances, and Hana remained absorbed in whatever she was doing even though she had to have heard him. She looked upset. Something was very wrong.

 

“Where is he?” Jesse demanded again, his voice taking on a slightly hysterical note. 

 

“He got cut off.” Soldier was the one to speak, finally. “Talon forces were swarming. He knew there were injuries, he insisted we take off.”

 

“No,” Jesse was shaking his head before Soldier had even finished, “No way, we ain't leaving him, we gotta go back.”

 

“He drew away agents on our tail when we were dragging you back. You know how pissed he’d be if we threw that away?” Soldier sounded angry and frustrated, although who it was directed at was difficult to tell.

 

“I don't care! We're going back!” Jesse tried to get up again, intending to get to the cockpit to tell Pharah to turn the plane around, but his head wasn't having any of it.

 

“Hold still!” Lúcio did not look happy, but Jesse didn't care. He struggled, trying to ignore the pain, but Soldier stormed over and pinned him down while Lúcio continued doing whatever it was he was doing with his injuries.

 

“No! We gotta go back!” Jesse was yelling by now, not caring what kind of a scene he was making. He laid his head back to bellow in the direction of the cockpit, “Fareeha! _Please!_ ”

 

After another moment of yelling and struggling while Lúcio and Soldier yelled and struggled back, the plane intercom clicked on. 

 

“Local reports show that Talon forces have left the area, but we’ve had no pursuers.” Pharah was keeping her voice carefully neutral. “They must have realized that we wiped all the files and lost interest.”

 

“Or they took a prisoner.” Soldier said darkly. Jesse struggled harder.

 

“His communicator signal is still coming from the area.” Pharah reported. 

 

Jesse froze, holding his breath. _Oh, please, oh please…_

 

“We have to try.” Hana spoke up for the first time, standing by her MEKA. “We can't just give up.”

 

Mei nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Soldier:76 looked at Lúcio.

 

“Will he make it?” Soldier gestured with his head at McCree.

 

“I'm right here, ya know.” Jesse grumbled, but shut up when both Lúcio and Soldier glared at him.

 

“If he stops moving and lets me properly treat him? Pretty sure he'll keep living.” Lúcio pinned Jesse with another look, his normally carefree attitude tarnished by his worry. “If he does exactly what I tell him.”

 

“I'll do it, I swear, we just gotta go back.” Jesse was begging and didn't care who knew it.

 

The plane tilted as it turned.

 

“ETA four hours.” Pharah announced before the intercom clicked off again. 

 

“Oh God,” Jesse moaned, covering his face with his hands, “He’s been out there for four hours already? He'll be out there for eight hours?!”

 

“We were fighting a headwind, probably more like nine hours,” Soldier started, but stopped that train of thought at the look Lúcio gave him. “The base was still standing last we saw, he'll be fine in there.”

 

But if Talon had brought the base down, or he was injured and unable to get back indoors… Panic squeezed Jesse’s chest, each breath coming with a stuttering gasp, heart racing.

 

“Hey, hey, Eastwood, take it easy.” Lúcio was looking even more worried, “Hanzo’s a tough dude, he can take care of himself.”

 

The conditions at the Alaskan base had been bad enough when they arrived, with nearly a meter of snow on the ground already and temperatures hovering around -28 Celsius. Everyone had dressed for the weather as best as they were able, but eyelashes still froze together and cheeks stung. A blizzard had begun to roll in as they were preparing to leave, just as Talon forces were arriving. Jesse knew that Hanzo would have had to remove his warm gloves to use his bow properly, and he no doubt would have done exactly that when Talon attacked, despite the plunging temperatures and snowfall.

 

Hanzo could be injured, wandering in that blizzard, or worse…

 

A sharp slap to the face knocked Jesse out of his troubling thoughts, making him take a breath that he didn't realize he had been putting off. His heart was practically galloping out of control. _Panic attack_ , his brain helpfully supplied. 

 

“Pull yourself together, McCree.” Soldier towered over him. “You can't help him like this. Keep breathing.”

 

He was right. Of course he was right. Jesse sucked in another breath and managed a nod.

 

Lúcio did something to his chest that _hurt_ then, making him gasp and cuss. 

 

“What did you even do, McCree?” Lúcio sounded exasperated. “You're all torn up.”

 

“I uh,” Jesse struggled to remember, “Something hit me and made me smoke my head.”

 

“Shotgun blast.” Soldier supplied. “And he forgot to mention he fell off the 15 foot catwalk before he smoked his head on the concrete floor.”

 

Jesse glared at Soldier:76.

 

“He has an unusually hard head, I'm sure it's fine.” Soldier attempted to smooth over. 

 

“Just relax, Eastwood. I'll fix you up something for the pain while I finish patching you up.” Lúcio patted his shoulder. “Don't worry, we’ll have Hanzo back in no time.”

 

***

 

Hanzo trudged through another drift, squinting in the howling wind and snow with his arms wrapped around his chest as best as possible. He was grateful for the winter gear he was wearing, even if the bulky clothing felt foreign on his body, but he was still freezing. The temperature had definitely dropped since he had arrived at this god-forsaken location, and everywhere he looked was just varying shades of white and grey as the blizzard raged on with night closing in.

 

He had lost his pursuers, but he had also lost the base. His communicator's map function was on the fritz, and while the compass part of it still worked, he had no idea which direction the base would be. He was attempting to walk a spiraling pattern, hoping to come across the base, but it felt like hours had passed with no success.

 

Weariness was seeping into his bones along with the frigid temperatures. His foot caught in the snow and he stumbled, crashing to his knees. The landing was softened by the snow, but he instantly felt even colder as his arms shot out to catch himself. He had had to shed his gloves to use his bow, and had lost them somewhere, leaving his hands bare in the snow. 

 

He was going to die here.

 

Hanzo shoved the thought aside even as it came. He struggled to his feet, tucked his hands back into his sleeves, and continued the tough slog through the growing drifts.

 

He found himself vaguely wondering what Jesse would do if he were here. The big American cowboy thrived in hot weather, and tended to complain of being cold even as he threw off heat like a furnace. He hadn’t complained about coming to Alaska, but he had rolled down his sleeves and added an oilskin jacket to his layers. He had gone into detail describing his favourite hot springs he had found on his journeys, likely in an attempt to get Hanzo to indulge with him at some point in the future, and Hanzo couldn’t help wishing that this day had gone a little differently.

 

He hoped Jesse was okay. He hadn’t seen what had happened, but he had heard the shouts when the cowboy had gone down, sending worry stabbing through his chest.

 

Hanzo tripped and fell again, just barely managing to twist and land on his shoulder instead of directly on his face and ended up completely submerged in the snow. He lay still in the drift for a moment, completely exhausted, trying to get his breath back as the wind whistled overhead. 

 

He just needed a moment. It didn't feel too bad laying here, out of the wind. Just a moment…

 

Hanzo barely snapped himself out of it in time. He had heard of this, had heard of the deep cold that coaxed a person into a false sense of warmth and security even as the body began to freeze to death. He had never understood how you could be so cold you began to feel warm again. Until now, anyways.

 

He struggled to his feet with massive effort and staggered a few more steps before crashing into another drift.

 

Just a moment, and he would get up again, he promised himself.

 

The wind howled, snow drifted. Hanzo didn't get up again.

 

***

 

Jesse was beginning to suspect that Lúcio had fixed him up with something more than just painkillers. Either that, or his concussion was rearing its ugly head. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness for some time, and wasn't even really sure when Lúcio had decided enough was enough and bandaged his chest. He even had a bandage around his head now, and he had no idea when that had happened. Possibly shortly before he had thrown up, but he only had a foggy recollection of that unpleasant experience as well. He had nearly forgotten how awful a bad concussion could be. 

 

The plane was rattling alarmingly when he finally regained enough senses to understand what was happening around him. He had been strapped in, keeping him from being thrown around, but it also restrained his arms. 

 

“The blizzard is getting worse!” Soldier shouted over the noise of wind and plane engines. “Can you even land in this?”

 

“I can land!” Pharah was calling back over the intercom again, “But I won't be able to take off again until this storm clears out! Talon forces are withdrawn, and I'm not picking up anything but Hanzo’s communicator.”

 

“Bring it down then.” Soldier ordered. “Let's hope we find more than just the communicator.”

 

Jesse wanted to get up, to go find Hanzo himself, but his body wasn't cooperating even if he hadn't been strapped down. His head felt too heavy to lift, and his arm and legs were like noodles. His flesh and bone hand twitched spasmodically, and he distantly heard himself groan painfully. Someone nearby patted his hand comfortingly.

 

The plane landed much more smoothly than he would have expected in a raging blizzard, but then again he knew how skilled of a pilot Pharah was.

 

Soldier was giving orders as the hatch at the back of the plane opened, letting in a blast of air that instantly got Jesse shivering. Lúcio unbuckled the straps holding Jesse and threw a blanket over him as Soldier, Hana, and Pharah left the plane, the latter holding a tablet with the communicator tracker running. Mei was benched because of her broken arm, but was rummaging in a storage locker for blankets and what looked like heating pads. 

 

Time seemed to drag on. Jesse could feel panic bubbling again. Lúcio turned up music he hadn't really registered before, and he could feel his heart trying to return to a more normal rate.

 

Finally, boots stomped as the team rushed up the ramp, carrying a familiar form between Soldier and Pharah.

 

“Hanzo,” Jesse croaked, dread filling him when he saw the grim faces of the rescuers.

 

They laid Hanzo on the floor on a heavily insulated sleeping bag that Mei had found somewhere as the hatch closed, and Pharah went to rev the engines higher to give the heater a boost. By the time she returned after shedding the bulkier elements of her armour, Lúcio and Soldier had removed enough of Hanzo’s layers for Soldier to check the archer’s throat for a pulse.

 

Jesse feebly reached out for Hanzo’s hand, but his depth perception was off kilter and he realized he was at least two feet out of range.

 

“Hanzo, darlin’,” Jesse was desperate to see any kind of reaction from Hanzo. “Please…”

 

Soldier minutely shook his head at Lúcio, who took his place and felt Hanzo’s throat, then wrist. Lúcio looked like he was going to be sick.

 

“No,” Jesse squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, refusing to believe what he was seeing, what his brain was telling him. 

 

“There's no pulse.” Lúcio sounded defeated. “I'm sorry, McCree.”

 

Jesse was shaking his head, not wanting to hear what was being said, not wanting to see Hanzo’s pale, motionless body and believe that he was gone. Jesse somehow lurched off the bench he was laying on, getting within range and touching Hanzo’s freezing cold skin, feeling like he was cut from marble. There was no pulse, and his frozen chest was still.

 

“No, no, no…” Jesse started to shake, feeling like he was coming undone. Denial struggled to remain firmly in place in his brain, but reality was bashing its way in. 

 

Pharah was suddenly there, getting into his space, gathering him up into her arms like he wasn't bigger than her, clutching him to her chest as Jesse wailed and sobbed into her shoulder.

 

***

 

Unnoticed, Mei leaned over and whispered something into Lúcio’s ear, whose eyes widened. They began working quickly but carefully, with a teary-eyed Hana stepping in to replace Mei when she struggled with one hand, removing Hanzo’s clothing from his body and placing heating pads and blankets on his torso and neck as well as under him, leaving his limbs uncovered. Once satisfied, Mei knelt down by McCree and Pharah. Jesse had quieted but still had his face buried in Pharah’s shoulder, his shoulders trembling. 

 

“I don't want to get anyone’s hopes up too high,” Mei began timidly, “But when I worked in Antarctica we had a saying for extreme hypothermia cases: a frozen person isn't dead until they are room temperature and dead.”

 

Jesse’s head shot up, hope flickering in his eyes. Behind her, Lúcio had found an oxygen tank and was fitting the mask to Hanzo’s cold face. 

 

“We won't know for certain until he’s warmed up a little, but we can't give up on him yet.” Mei looked over her shoulder to where Lúcio was leaning over Hanzo, still feeling for any trace of a pulse. Jesse took Hanzo’s limp hand, cringing at how cold and stiff he felt.

 

“We need to warm his core before we warm up the rest of him.” Mei gestured, explaining Hanzo’s uncovered arms and legs.

 

Jesse didn't trust his voice enough to speak. He felt winded after that roller coaster of emotions, and wasn't yet sure which direction it was going to go next. He wanted to be optimistic, but Hanzo felt so _cold_.

 

“Lúcio, look!” Hana pointed at the oxygen mask on Hanzo’s face with a gasp. Everyone watched, breathless. 

 

It took longer than Jesse expected, but he finally saw what Hana had seen; a tiny puff of fog on the plastic that faded within seconds, which was followed by another after a long moment. And another. It was slow and shallow, but Hanzo was breathing. 

 

Jesse would have slid bonelessly to the ground if he wasn't already there and being held up by Pharah. He gripped Hanzo’s hand tightly, his throat squeezed shut with emotion, but Pharah eventually had to drag him away to give the others room to work. 

 

It felt like ages dragged by, Lúcio and Mei carefully monitoring his vitals, before Hanzo started shivering, lightly at first, before ramping up into full body shuddering, hands and feet smacking painfully against the floor.

 

“He's warming up, let's get him wrapped up.” Mei instructed, giving Hana spare socks to slide onto his feet before they bundled him into the sleeping bag along with the blankets and heating pads. Hanzo let out a small, choked cry from under the oxygen mask when they moved him but didn't appear to completely regain consciousness. 

 

“Hanzo?” Jesse cried out, alarmed by the pained sound and unable to see what was happening. “Is he okay?”

 

“He's okay.” Lúcio confirmed. “He wasn't hurt in the fight, but being that cold can't feel too good either.”

 

Both Mei and Lúcio continued monitoring Hanzo’s vitals, and Pharah eventually had to leave to check the weather situation to see if they would be able to take off anytime soon. McCree sat on the floor out of the way, trying to wait quietly and patiently, but it was hard to keep himself from pestering them for information. However, Mei seemed pleased with Hanzo’s condition, which helped him feel better about it.

 

Jesse caught himself nodding off a few times, despite the fact that his ribs were aching along with his head, but he stubbornly refused to lay down again as he watched and waited.

 

***

 

“Hey, Eastwood.” Jesse startled awake and blinked bleary eyes when Lúcio touched his arm. He had apparently fallen dead asleep, and for a fair amount of time if the ache in his back was anything to go by. “There's someone who wants to see you.”

 

Jesse was already trying to scramble to his feet, sleep drunk and aching. Lúcio huffed in exasperation, but helped him stagger over to where Mei and Hana sat beside Hanzo.

 

“Here, just lay down here.” Lúcio instructed, quickly unrolling another sleeping bag directly beside Hanzo. McCree didn't bother climbing into it, preferring to get down on the same level as Hanzo as soon as possible and flopped down on it before rolling onto his side. 

 

Hanzo’s eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to look at Jesse as Lúcio threw a blanket over the cowboy.

 

“Hi,” Jesse said before his breath was stolen away by brown eyes he thought he would never see again. Hanzo smiled under the oxygen mask before blinking slowly, his eyelids looking heavy.

 

“Hello.” His voice was muffled, and he shifted slightly in the sleeping bag, frowning when he couldn't move his arms very far.

 

“Don't try to move, Hanzo.” Lúcio patted his blanketed shoulder. “You're mostly thawed out already but you don't need to be out in the cold yet.”

 

Hanzo shivered as if remembering the cold, but it didn't last long. Jesse tentatively reached out to touch Hanzo’s face, still not quite believing his eyes, and threaded his fingers through his hair. Hanzo hummed and turned his cheek into Jesse’s hand, letting his eyes droop shut. After a moment his breath hitched and his eyes flew open again to search McCree’s face, gaze landing on the bandages on his head that he had forgotten about.

 

“I'm okay, darlin’.” Jesse could guess what he was thinking. “Just get some sleep. Don't worry about me.”

 

“I was told it was thanks to you that the plane came back.” Hanzo’s voice was weak and he looked exhausted, but he had his stubborn face on. “You should not have come back. It could have been a trap…”

 

“Uh, yeah, no way was I leaving you behind.” Jesse felt absolutely no remorse for any of his actions that had led to this outcome. “It wasn't a trap. But it was almost too late anyhow. No more stupid self-sacrificing idjit moves from now on, _comprende_?”

 

Hanzo looked at him for another moment, but eventually nodded. His eyes started falling shut again, while Jesse continued stroking his hair.

 

“I was so scared, Han.” Jesse eventually choked out in a whisper. “I thought I lost you. And I learned my heart can't take that.”

 

Hanzo opened his eyes again, trying again to move before remembering that he was bundled rather securely in a sleeping bag.

 

“I am here, Jesse.” He reassured. “I will… be more mindful in the future.”

 

“Likewise, sweetheart.” Jesse promised. “No more running off half-cocked.”

 

“Finally.” Soldier:76 muttered from the wall where he was sitting. “Winston will be pleased.”

 

“Hey! We are having a moment here!” Jesse hollered, totally wrecking the moment. “Shut that damn super hearing off and give us a little privacy.”

 

“That's not how it works and you know it, McCree.” Soldier growled, but he stood to walk to the cockpit to check in with Pharah. The blizzard sounded like it was beginning to die outside, which hopefully meant they wouldn't be grounded for much longer, depending on how bad the runway was drifted. 

 

Jesse looked back at Hanzo, who was already drifting off to sleep again. Considering their captive audience, he figured that was probably for the best anyway. They could continue their moment back at the base, once they had recovered and had more privacy. Jesse sidled a bit closer, appreciating the heat coming from the heating pads in Hanzo’s sleeping bag, and quickly fell asleep to the sound of his breathing.


End file.
